


Carry All This Broken Bone

by cheesehunter



Series: One Shots [5]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, a tiny bit of self-harm, but theres like some kind of power thing going on, hero!Patrick Stump, i be on that superhero au!, idk if it counts as sub/dom, it be like that sometimes, references to past mental and physical abuse, stay safe buds, theres no sex, villain!Pete Wentz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 04:16:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheesehunter/pseuds/cheesehunter
Summary: Pete wants to be the perfect friend.Patrick doesn't need him to be.(Sequel to The Script Reads "The End" And I'm Out Of Liquid Paper" but could be read as standalone)





	Carry All This Broken Bone

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if anything else needs to be tagged by commenting or hitting me up on my tumblr not-a-cry-but-a-bullet , I'm aware this is like............... ehhh

Sat on the roof, looking at how his feet dangled into the abyss – abysses like there are only in the city, filled with lights and laughter – our villain turned his smoke off by pressing it against his arm, the one made out of flesh. His expression didn’t shift, eyes reflecting the lights outside, but no light came from him. He wished to be a shooting star, a flower, a pretty thing. Something people would watch in awe, pick up to hold between their hands, put into their loved one’s hair. But here he sat, staring at the skyline from inside, and he was perhaps the scariest individual of this shithole.

 

Did he deserve it? Maybe. His arms twitched uncontrollably as he thought of it, so much he had to wrap them around himself to keep them from moving. He remembered with crystal clarity the immense pain he’d been put through, and why? What had he done to deserve it? What can a child – a _child_ – do to deserve abuse? They’d conditioned him, years of training, with torture and god knows what else, and they dare call it “programming”. Well, he supposed it was, to a certain extent, a rewiring of his brain. Pete could only be certain of two things, he wasn’t _Pete_ anymore, he was _Fallout Boy_ and he wasn’t good and therefore didn’t deserve good things. In fact, good had always come with punishment, it was part of the “training”, they’d made sure he associated nice things to pain, and now he feared good, but pain was familiar.

 

His hand rested on the pavement-like surface he was sat on, gripping onto the border though he didn’t necessarily want to. Some reflexes can’t be erased, they’re part of his human half. Sighing softly, he decided to go back to White Horse’s headquarters. Maybe he could prepare a little surprise for him.

 

Pete walked his way back to the relatively big place. The morning was foggy and a little cold on the streets of this city, but once he’d pushed the door open, he was embraced by warmth and a soft scent of apple pie that couldn’t be more reassuring. The villain’s stomach twisted uncomfortably anyway.

 

He counted his steps to the trapdoor that lay in the backroom of this second-hand book store/record shop that hid the HQ. Once he’d found it, he moved the voluminous box to the side with his feet and typed the code into the little machine, that unlocked the trapdoor for him.

 

The headquarters were silent, though just as warm as the book store, but Pete craved for a different kind of calm and warmth. He eventually left them, making sure to put everything back into place and walked around town looking for a bakery that would be open at this ungodly time of the morning. White Horse was busy doing hero stuff and wouldn’t come back probably until late at night, and this too, made Pete highly uncomfortable.

 

After the bakery, Pete found a florist. He bought a dozen different flowers, all in the shades of blue, yellow and green, to match the other boy’s look.

 

Then, before he could stop himself, he was out again, looking for more stuff to please his new friend.

 

* * *

 

Hours passed by very slowly in the HQ, possibly slower than out on the streets. Pete hugged his knees, eyes set on the clock. He could not bear the agonizingly slow tick-tocks, almost tempted to take the clock off the wall and push on its hands to make time flow faster, but he wasn’t dumb, he knew that wasn’t gonna work, so he just sat there, waiting.

 

In what served as a kitchen, the flowers were patiently waiting in a tall glass with a little water, the little cake of sorts he’d bought was stored in the fridge, the whole place was sparkling clean, Pete had lit a few candles too, yet this was missing its most important part; Patrick.

 

Pete got up, pacing back and forth, his head already starting to fill with the thoughts he’d desperately been trying to avoid, but he couldn’t help it now. He was gone, gone into a long spiral of ‘ what if’s and Patrick wasn’t there to deny any of it. Not that he had to. Because Pete was an adult. Who didn’t need a nanny. Just a friend. But what if by almost dying in front of Patrick’s eyes he’d somehow coerced him into being his friend, and yeah, that makes sense, because why else would Patrick be friends with someone like him? Now Pete was biting his lower lip to blood, pushing back the tears and bitter taste that kept coming to his eyes and mouth. He was set. He’d leave tomorrow morning without leaving marks or tracks, simply disappear as if he’d never existed. No one would have to worry about him anymore, no one would have to pretend to be his friend anymore, no one would be able to hurt him anymore.

 

But not tonight. Tonight, he wanted to give back to Patrick.

 

* * *

 

The trapdoor, attached to a bell system, clinked softly. Pete almost jump to his feet. He’d been in sleeping state, but the most minor noise could wake him up. “Master?” He asked fearfully, half-asleep and very confused, alert yet looking down at his feet.

 

Patrick’s heart tightened at the word and mostly at Pete’s whole demeanor.

 

“No, Pete, it’s me, Patrick. Your friend.” He responded, approaching the boy with care.

 

The other male rubbed his eyes, yawning a little. His shoulders relaxed noticeably as he looked up and realized Patrick wasn’t lying. He smiled a little.

 

“Welcome home, ‘Trick.” He responded, and then self-consciously wrapped his arms around himself, blushing just a little bit, which Patrick didn’t even know was possible for a cyborg. “I uh, got you cake. And flowers. And essential oils. Just thought uh, maybe you’d enjoy having a little time off.”

 

Patrick’s whole face lit up with surprise, indeed, and gratitude, despite his greatest efforts. He couldn’t say no, his whole body ached from overexertion. “Yeah, actually, I’d love that. What are we doing, then?”

 

Pete tensed up, only realizing now he’d fucked up the biggest part. He swallowed soundingly, looking around like the walls were going to give him an answer. He really was useless. Well, what to expect? He’d tried to make something pretty, something nice, but he wasn’t wired that way, he was (re)made to destroy, to do ugly things. “I-I..”

 

His eyes got glassy again, lower lip trembling a little bit. His voice modulator was failing him, sobs weren’t part of its program.

 

“Hey, hey, what’s up, Pete? You can talk to me.” Patrick said, getting closer to hug Pete, but the other male had him pinned to the wall in .5 seconds, his program kicking in. Eyes wide and afraid, the dark haired male took two, then three steps back, freeing Patrick, then fell to his knees, kissing the other boy’s shoes.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” He kept repeating, hugging Patrick’s ankles. Never had the latter been so confused in his life.

 

“Please, get up, Pete, and stay there.” Patrick asked. Pete obeyed immediately, something like fear deep in his reddened eyes.

 

“What are you doing, sweetie?” He asked softly, reaching to carefully run his fingers through the other male’s hair, gentle as ever. Pete looked like he wanted to flinch but was fighting back something else, deep in his mind.

 

The dark haired boy was tearing up again, his voice shaky as he responded “I’m a villain.”, his whole body twitching and trembling in very unnatural ways. “I just want to be good, I want to be a good friend to you. B-but..”

 

“Hey, you are a good friend, calm down, okay?” Patrick asked, but that was a request Pete couldn’t fulfill. “Here, let’s try again.” He got closer as slowly as he could, Pete did not move. Finally, he could wrap both arms around Pete. The other boy’s shakes intensified, but he stayed still safe for his arms, that he wrapped around Patrick gently.

 

“I-I pinned you against the wall. You were just trying to hug me and I reacted like you were gonna punch me. I don’t wanna be like this, Patrick, they made me to be the worst scum of the universe. I just wanna be good.” He cried into the human’s neck. The latter was drawing little shapes in Pete’s back, listening intently. “A-and, I wanted to make tonight perfect, but even that I can’t do. ‘Cause I’m evil and pathetic. You should’ve let me die.”

 

Patrick tensed up at that, pushing Pete at arm’s length and staring into his eyes. They hadn’t mentioned the other night ever since and this was seriously starting to worry him.

 

“No.” Patrick replied, his tone as firm as it gets. Pete did not dare move a single finger. “Sit down.” He ordered, walking towards the couch as well. The dark haired boy did as he was told.

 

“I don’t know who implanted that bullshit in your brain, but you need to stop. All of it. You don’t need to bathe me in love for me to stay with you, you don’t need to buy flowers for me to be your friend, you don’t need to kiss my feet when you fuck up, you don’t need to apologize for things you can’t control. That’s screwed up, Pete. I accept you for whomever you’re able to be, be your best you and I’ll be satisfied. And if some days you can’t, that’s okay too, we can’t always be strong, okay? That being said, never, ever, say I should’ve let you die. Never.” He kept his tone commanding but he wasn’t yelling, wasn’t even speaking loudly. Pete’s eyes were round like pennies, his whole attention turned to Patrick.

 

“No one deserves to die, you hear me? No one. Whenever people die, other people are sad, that’s just how it works, other people are so sad sometimes they won’t get out of their bed for days. Sometimes, they may feel like they want to die also. No one deserves to die because everyone has someone who loves them.”

 

“I don’t.” Pete responded shyly, looking at his hands. “No one loves _me_.”

 

“I do.” Patrick replied, cupping the other boy’s cheeks.

 

“You barely know me.”

 

“I’ve known you for the past ten years, and four months, I think I do.”

 

Pete just opened his mouth and shut it again, finding no good argument against that.

 

“Let me take care of you, alright? Together, we’ll fix everything they fucked up in there, okay?” Patrick asked, gently reaching to ghost his fingers over Pete’s temple.

 

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Pete said, leaving out ‘considering the techniques they used on me and the fact that it took them years and years to perfect them until they broke me and built me back up.’

 

“Won’t stop me from trying.” Patrick simply replied, a smile that felt just like home on his lips. Pete melted, unable to move if he wanted to as the other male placed the softest kiss on his forehead. The villain wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, no one had ever been so nice to him, he wanted to give back to Patrick, but the other boy’s words kept echoing in his mind. ‘ You don’t need to buy me flowers for me to be your friend’. Pete felt like he had to, give back in some way, for how nice Patrick had always been to something so ugly and imperfect like him, but the other boy kept him there, massaged his shoulders, wrapped him in a blanket, put some hot chocolate in his hands and only then he sat down, turning on some stupid rom com and cuddling himself up to Pete without fear, like Pete was just a big teddy bear. Pete loved that concept.


End file.
